This Year's Sandwich
by JannP
Summary: Finn realises that objects have way more significance in his life than he thought; that sometimes all you need is children trapped in a ball of glass to get you back on the right track.  Co-authored with the hilariously amazing egyouppt.  T for swearing.


_**A/N from Jann: ** So this came out of a mutual wondering where in the hell the snow globe in the season two finale came from. This is what happens when me and Kenz (**egyouppt**) try to answer this question. She is sure fun to write with and she was a good sport about all my nagging. At any rate, if you haven't looked up her stuff you should because she's the main reason this story is (in my opinion) awesome. She's also the only one who can really inspire me to support a new Finn pairing. So thanks to her for being herself and thanks for reading and reviewing._

_**A/N from Kenz: **I'm kind of surprised we finished this thing, but something about Finn's attachment to a snowglobe was apparently intriguing enough for both of us to actually a complete a story. it was my first time ever really co-writing everything and it was actually a really awesome. because if you didn't know, Jann is kind of a genius, though she's going to deny it when she reads this. and I hope you have as much fun reading this as we did writing it. _

* * *

><p>It isn't like he's ever been on a plane before, but even first class seats suck ass. He's just… long legs don't do well with stuff like this. He knew that from all the busses and he tried for a seat on the aisle so he could stretch out, but Quinn's on the other side of the aisle anyway and he doesn't really want to get poked with the daggers in her eyes and whatever…Kurt owes him so Kurt switched him and he's totally blocked in but it's better. So he tries—again—to stretch his legs out and he gets his foot hooked under the seat and it actually gives him the leverage to kind of accomplish something for once. He can actually feel blood moving in his thighs again so that's a start.<p>

He might even groan a little bit in relief that something is working out, but everyone has headphones in anyway so who really cares?

He can't sit like that forever, though. He needs to put the tray table thing back down and keep working on this song—oh my God, shut up, it still counts even if he hasn't written anything but a couple of awkward football-shaped doodles—because this song has to be good. He has to concentrate.

What he doesn't expect is something tapping his foot. He looks over at Kurt first because Kurt's like his brother and he wouldn't try to…nah. So he lifts up the tray and there's…

_What the fuck? What is that thing? _

He bends down and fumbles for a second to reach it with his too-long arms, plus he totally earns the dirty look from the dude right in front of him when he somehow manages to bang his knee and his head on the tray at the same time and seriously, he is not fucking cut out for air travel, okay?

Unless it's in his own private plane with lots of room to spread out 'cause that would rock pretty hard.

He frowns when his hand wraps around something hard and smooth and spherical and he really hopes there isn't some kind of sex toy shaped like this 'cause he's pretty much committed to picking it up now and that would be super embarrassing. And he gets enough embarrassment from Kurt checking his browser history and stuff. He picks it up, just barely managing to avoid smacking it on the tray, which is when he decides he'll probably be better off just putting the tray up for now anyway.

He glances around to make sure no one is looking at him 'cause he just picked up a snow globe, even though he was pretty sure they stopped existing in the early 2000s and he doesn't want people to think he's a creeper or something. He turns it over in his hand and if he were more OCD-inclined, he'd be worried about germs and stuff. But this is a kid who used to eat nickels off the ground. Not because he really liked the taste of them, but mostly because they were there. And he doesn't remember doing any of that anyway; his mom just tells him that stuff all the time.

He's pretty sure she might just be making it up.

So he puts up the tray table but then turns in his seat because, right, like it wasn't five kinds of awkward before anyway, but whatever. Kurt catching him with this thing would be way, way worse than, like, asking Rachel to walk on his back later or something. She's done it before, he's pretty sure she'll do it again if he needs her to. She's a pal like that.

So anyway, it has one of those gold things on it that twist around. So, like, he twists it. He's not sure if something is gonna jump out and he'll lose his shit right here if that happens, but instead it just tinkles out a little song. A song he recognizes from somewhere.

Okay, so Rachel might believe in karma, but he knows she doesn't really believe in _signs_. They talked about it a lot with the saved-by-a-sandwich incident, which…whatever. It was true. Believe what you want, naysayer. He was there, it happened.

But thing is, he _does_ believe in signs. And the song coming out of that thing is a big sign. It's practically singing _ask her right now if she loves you and she'll say yes_. Okay, well, really it's singing_ Merry Christmas darling, we're apart that's true; but I can dream, and in my dreams I'm Christmas-ing with you_. And he knows those are the right words because they played on repeat in his head for a long time. He ignored all the shit they repeated with because, like, he had to okay? But now he can think about it all and toss it aside and this beautiful, creepy thing in his hand is singing and telling him what he already knew. Now is the time. The karma is good. He should go with it.

Why can't he just write a song that says _that_? And why do all the good Christmas songs have to be taken? And _why_ does he have to try getting her back in May when a Christmas song doesn't really apply to the world-at-large?

Why does _karma_ hate him?

And why is he still staring at this thing like it's Rachel's naked boobs or something? Not that he's seen them, but he's pretty sure if or when he does (please be when please be when please be when) he'll be staring at them in the same fixated sort of way. Although with any luck, there'll be less singing of Christmas songs involved.

He looks around again because what if someone can hear that? And not to be biased, but Rachel's version of the song was way better. Not that he was willing to tell her that at the time, though he also wasn't in the possession of a singing snow globe at that point anyway. And technically, he's still not in possession of it now, but that's all like technicalities and stuff, which isn't his strong point.

Right, back to songwriting. He's pretty sure it was a crummy idea to come to New York with zero songs prepared, but asking him to write a song is like asking peanut butter not to be delicious; it isn't possible. (Also, yes, he knows you're not supposed to talk to peanut butter, but it was just the one time because he was just really confused and normally would have a lady, uh manly, chat with Kurt but he was off with Blaine doing things Finn never wanted to hear details about and he just needed a pal. At least he hasn't adopted any cats yet, so shut up). And he's pretty sure snow globes, especially in the spring, aren't normal inspiration for a song, but he really hopes it could work out this way for him.

He guesses, at least, it's a good thing the snow globe doesn't play "Faithfully" or else he might actually break down and start sobbing like a girl. But then he thinks that's a stupid thought because "Faithfully" isn't a Christmas song and they don't make Journey globes…do they? He should totally check into that.

He coughs, clears his throat, and covers the snow globe with one side of his jacket when he sees the man across the aisle from him giving him death glares worse than Quinn when he almost accidently called her Rachel one time. But, like, it's not his fault the damn thing won't shut up! How was he supposed to know it would play the song on loop? And that twisting the knob repeatedly wouldn't eventually make it shut up? Besides, he has to listen to it too, and at least everyone else can fit in the seats correctly so they don't even have anything to complain about.

Especially because, honestly?

It's a pretty nice snow globe.

* * *

><p>He's flying. His airplane kicks ass and—<p>

There's a sharp jerk at the end and he drags his eyes open sees Puck hovering over him. That's a really creepy way to wake up or whatever, like maybe he just blacked out. He blinks a couple times, trying to find his earliest memory.

Chair…something about a chair….

And no. His _last_ memory. Still a chair, but he was sitting in it and working on a song and…sitting. He was definitely sitting. He lets his head bounce. There's something back there. He's not sitting anymore and Puck is hovering. With a huge gasp, he scrambles to standing.

"Is that a snow globe in your lap or are you just happy to see me?" Puck says, wearing a huge grin. "Wait… why the fuck do you have a snow globe? Where did you get that thing?"

He's _loud_. He means, he's always known Puck was loud but now it seems like he's way louder than he used to be or…

"Shut it!" Finn yells in a whisper, looking around. There are dudes scattered everywhere. He tilts his head and surveys the scene and wonders how in the hell Sam can sleep like that, with his legs up on the bed and his shoulders on the ground.

Fuck, his shoulders hurt. He _was_ sitting up in his last known memory and … he glances down. The snow globe is cradled in his arm in a careful football hold and can he really help it if he's so good he does that crap in his _sleep_? He's _the man_ and… it's kind of a relief the snow globe isn't broken because that would be a really shitty sign, Grilled Cheesus. Do you hear that? No more shitty signs, okay? He just needs this to go well.

"Fuck me runnin! Do you have a crush on that thing? Were you _dreaming_about it?"

"No," he pushes back. He forgot to be quiet and Kurt is groaning into a pillow. "Just shut your mouth, okay?"

"No, seriously," Puck whisper-yells at him. "Where the hell did you even get that?"

Finn rolls his eyes. Like he's going to tell Puck he found it under the seat in the plane. The dude already thinks he's a girl enough as it is—although Finn's pretty sure Puck is even more whipped than he is. And two, is it douchey to steal a snow globe from a plane? Does it really count as stealing though if someone forgot about it? Okay, yes it does and he knows stealing is wrong, but he's still going to keep it. And if anyone reports a missing snow globe, he can just return it and say Puck stole it.

"Just go back to bed," Finn tells him, carefully setting the snow globe on the desk. On second thought, he has this weird feeling that Puck is probably going to try to confiscate the damn thing and either break it or lose it somewhere. And there's no way he's letting that happen. So he picks it up again, carrying over to the bed, ignoring Puck's snort before throwing a pillow at his face.

He hears Puck's muffled laughter and, again, ignores it, looking for his bag so he can at least change into pajama pants. He really hates falling asleep in his jeans—or on the desk, but what's done is done as far as that goes. He's still a little weirded out that he has to share a bed with Mike. Not 'cause of gay stuff, so just shut up. But he's like a giant and likes to hog the bed. And okay, maybe it's a little bit about sleeping with another dude. But like, what if everyone makes fun of his Power Rangers pajamas? They're old, but they were also the only ones he had clean and he didn't think he'd be sharing a room with all the other guys.

And there's the whole snow globe thing. A part of him wants to just leave it on the floor next to the bed because, well, who actually sleeps with a snow globe? It's not like it's a teddy bear or something. Not that he sleeps with one of those either, but that's at least normal…for seven year old girls. Whatever. Shut up, okay?

"So what are you going to do for Rachel?" Puck asks more seriously, sitting down on the bed next to where Finn is going through his bag.

"Dunno," he answers. "Seems like a good move, though. I mean, I think this place means a lot to her even if she hasn't said it out loud."

Puck snorts. "Seriously? Yeah. Understatement of the fucking decade, dude—but do you know anything about this city?"

"No," Finn admits. His eyes bounce over to Kurt and back to his and bag and… he is kind of second-guessing the Power Rangers thing. Like…he's kind of already given Puck just enough ammunition to ruin his life. Does he need to add pictures to that? That's a no. Definitely a firm 'no'. He keeps looking. And he's sure Kurt can help him figure out something to do for Rachel since they're kind of bound at the hip. Touching hips? Attached? What is that stupid saying? Does it even matter?

Puck might be kind of an asshole, even when it comes to girls, but he doesn't _have_ to be. And if he's as whipped as he seems, maybe he can help a little, too. So Finn goes for broke. "Burt gave me a bunch of cash before we came and said I should use it 'for good not evil'. I'm not sure what that means, but I think I'm gonna use it for Rachel."

"How much cash are we talking?"

"I'm not telling you how much or where it is, so just don't worry about it," Finn answers immediately. He thinks maybe they've been friends for too long and they've been through too much. Like they trust each other but totally _don't_ trust each other at the same time. Or maybe that's just because Puck's a douchebag.

Puck scoffs and Finn thinks he hears mumbling about Natty Light or something. And he kinda has to wonder why Puck has such a hard-on for the stuff 'cause it kinda tastes like piss watered down with club soda. Then again, Puck isn't really picky when it comes to beer. Or anything.

And he sort of wants to tell Puck to just get the hell away so he can go to bed and put his dorky pajamas on in peace and actually, mostly just so Puck won't see them. Maybe he'll have to wake up a little earlier than everyone else so he can change before they can make fun of him.

But then again, he might actually need Puck's help for planning his epic date with Rachel, so he's like, on a cucumber or something. Except that's not right, even if cucumbers can't give you AIDS. What is he even trying to think about anymore?

Rachel.

That should have been pretty obviously, since she occupies about ninety percent of his thoughts. Epic date, right. Okay. He briefly considers bringing the snow globe along for good luck, but, like, where would he even put it? One, it wouldn't fit in the pants pocket of his suit. And two, even if it did, it would just make it seem like he had a really, really big and really disfigured boner and he doesn't want her think there's anything wrong with his junk. Not that the date is with the implication of sex, but if there's ever any hope of it in the future, he doesn't want her to be, like, afraid of it or anything. That's the exact opposite of romantic, if such things can have exact opposites.

Okay and three, he would probably just drop it and break it and he, like, depends on that for signs and all that stuff. It's like an either outdated or updated version of a Magic 8-ball. And also, how would he even explain to Rachel why he has a snow globe on their date?

He also probably needs to come up with an excuse for them to even be on a date in the first place.

That's probably the best place to start.

He looks over at Puck, who is still staring at him like he's trying to eat mashed potatoes through a straw or something. Oops.

"Sorry," he says in a small voice, hoping to wipe that look off Puck's face. It's bad enough to explain your thoughts when you know what they are, let alone when you're all messed up. He doesn't want to have to explain, he just wishes Puck could magically see inside his head and understand even if that meant sometimes he saw embarrassing stuff, like… what was it? Telepathing? That would be pretty cool. Anyway…

Wait. That word actually came out of his mouth. Okay.

"So I think the first thing I really need is a _reason_ to ask Rachel out. She's all about reasons and if I don't have a good one, she'll say no."

Puck nods. "Yeah, you're totally right about that. What about this song business? We still need a couple songs."

And instantly, _Merry Christmas, Darling_ is dancing through his head again. That will _not_ work, brain. Quit thinking that because it's not even Christmas.

"Songs?"

"Yeah, like…okay, check this. We _know_ she can write songs, so why not ask her to help you write one? I mean, she'll probably end up doing most of the work because you're _you_ and all, but… if you can get her out of the room where Quinn and Santana are staring and wishing she'd fail, I bet she'll be able to help. It's a win/win."

Finn nods. "Yeah, that's… that sounds like a good idea. Plus we can just go to dinner or something while we do that. It'd be like…like when people work and eat at the same time. What's that called?"

"I think with Berry, you're safe enough calling it a work date. But still, like, make it _not_ work. Not like you're doing homework or something."

He wishes Puck wouldn't laugh at him if he played the Christmas song again. Maybe it would give him an idea. But if he got an idea from a Christmas song, he's not too sure how that would play out in the here and now. _It's not Christmas, Finn_. He has to keep reminding himself and it sucks all over again.

"Work date, though. I can deal with that," he says. He looks over at Puck and decides it's okay to be a little bit of a girl, maybe for just a second. Since it's a date with _Rachel Berry_ they're talking about. And, like, he loves her. It's ridiculous how hard he loves her and how much he wants to be with her again. This just…this just _has_ to work. "'sides, if she's with St. Assclown then I can still save face."

"Trust me, she's not interested in him," Puck says flatly. "And if she is… well, I'll take care of him." He cracks his knuckles and Finn is a little scared.

"E-ex-excuse me?" Finn stammers out, looking at this guy and wondering if he _really_ knows him. "I mean, like, what…."

"He's earned a good dumpster toss."

Finn breathes out his relief because sometimes his friend is seriously scary. "No. Just…no."

Puck sighs, too. "Yeah, probably best not to be blamed for that shit. Me and you are the first place they'd point fingers."

And Finn has to admit that's true, but the only finger he's really afraid of is Rachel's. She might not ever speak to him again if he did anything to Jesse, no matter who is in what kind of a relationship.

But just for the record, if she _is_ in a relationship with that tool again, he's breaking the snow globe. And probably his own neck or something else really drastic. Because there's_ no way _he's going through that crap again even though he's got one foot in the door of that and…just nevermind. He needs to focus on their date.

* * *

><p>The rest of the guys invite him to go hang out at the pool with him, but he declines in favor of moping around the hotel room all by himself.<p>

It doesn't take him long to get out of his suit—in fact, even though it takes him about twenty minutes to put one on, he can get it off in about one and a half. And since no one else is around, he can hang around in his Power Rangers pajamas and no one can get down on him for it (he just has to remember to be under the blankets before they get back).

Finn sighs listlessly as he settles in the desk chair, the snow globe staring back at him, as if mocking. Like, obviously, it's not actually staring but whatever, you get the point. And if you don't, well he has bigger problems to deal with anyway.

He'd been pretty sure Rachel was still in love with him; subtlety really isn't her thing. Apparently, it's not his either, though. And he knows he never really stopped loving her, but he'd been kinda proud of himself for finally being able to admit it to himself. He'd been haunted by that tether in the months they were apart, even when he didn't have the word for it.

And he'd known she'd felt it too, even tonight. So what is it that stopped her?

It can't be Jesse, he tells himself. He looks back at the snow globe, picking it up and shifting it in his hands, his fingers lingering on the twisty thing on the bottom as if trying to decide whether or not he should let the song play. His heart aches and his head aches and his feet kinda hurt too because walking around in fancy shoes is so not his deal.

She'd looked so happy the whole day—until he'd tried to kiss her. And, like, he can't be that bad of a kisser, right? Because he remembers when they dated the first (well, the second time, technically) and she'd loved kissing and stuff just as much as he did. So he's not entirely sure what he did wrong—um, aside from dating Quinn and lying about Santana and that stuff. And he's not brushing it off, exactly. But literally nothing else compares to the way he feels about Rachel; he'd just thought she'd know that.

And, like, he'd known she deserves everything he has to give (and then some) and the romance to match, so he'd tried, even if he only has enough for, like, and ice cream cone now.

He purses his lips. "I just thought I did everything right for once," he whispers sadly, staring longingly at the snow globe, his thumb and forefinger still hovering over the knob on the bottom.

His mind goes over the whole night again and again, looking for any crack or any sign she didn't feel the same way. She didn't say she doesn't, she said she can't and those aren't the same thing. So why can't she?

"What am I missing?" He asks, but the children don't have answers 'cause he's not asking about a snowman and that's really their whole world, isn't it? He kind of wishes he could crawl in there with them. "I promise I'm not a bad kisser, guys. And I won't actually try to kiss you because I think I could go to jail for that and -"

"If the children inside start talking back, I'm having Dad and Carole commit you."

He's totally in his pajamas and apparently he can't even get hiding those right because Kurt is standing in the door with open mocking on his face. Then again, that's kind of the look he always has so maybe it's got nothing to do with the pajamas. And right… he's talking to a snow globe. Obviously Kurt doesn't understand that it's also part Magic 8 ball and it also might be the only real friend he has right now.

"No. They don't talk, they sing," he defends.

Kurt steps inside the room and closes the door behind him. Finn wonders briefly if Schue even realizes the two rooms they have are basically co-ed. Like, this door between them doesn't keep anything out.

"Finn…"

"Shut up, Kurt. I'm not crazy; just listen." He twists the gold key and hears the song and it kind of makes him want to shove a pen into his ears just so he doesn't have to hear and remember and think and feel and… what in the hell did he do? He just doesn't get it. She didn't explain it and he doesn't understand, all right? It's frustrating.

Something in Kurt's eyes changes a little when he hears the song and Finn wonders if Rachel ever told Kurt about how she sang it to him after they broke up. But it takes him only thirty seconds to shut the song off again because he's pretty sure if he listens to any more of it, he's going to start crying like a baby. Kurt's eyes snap to his.

"Are you okay?" he asks seriously, and Finn's grateful for Kurt's usual snarkiness being absent for the moment.

"No," Finn admits. "Not really."

"Well, I don't have any milk, but…" He trails off and Finn sighs, leaning back in the desk chair, right to that dangerous height where he might fall over, but he doesn't really care.

"I'm just a screw up," he says bitterly. And there are so many feelings and he's never been good at sorting them all out, but he knows at the moment, he just feels so…rejected. And hurt. And confused. But not the kind of confused where he's not sure who he should be with or who he has more or stronger feelings for. Because he can admit to himself, especially now, that it's always been Rachel.

It's the kind of confused that makes him question everything he's ever known. And sure, for a while he thought Rachel didn't love him because people who cheat on you don't love you, right? And he cheated on Quinn sure, but it's not like he really loved her—not in the right way, at least.

But that's when he realized he can't really compare the two and maybe he should have told Rachel or maybe he should have done anything that wasn't be Finn Hudson. Because obviously that's not what she's looking for right now and God, he didn't know it would hurt this much. "It was supposed to be epic," he murmurs.

Kurt takes a seat on the bed, crossing his legs and looking at Finn pointedly. "What was?"

"I took Rachel on this awesome date. Like, the kinds dreams are made of. Dressing up, Central Park, Sardi's, the works. All that movie stuff." Kurt raises an eyebrow, impressed. "But I thought—I mean, I guess—I just, I thought it would end like one of those movies. Except without sex. But Rachel and I—it'd be our night. And well, yeah, that didn't happen." He manages to get the story out without crying, but he doesn't feel that accomplished.

Mostly he just feels hollow.

Kurt looks at him sympathetically. "This isn't easy for her," he says.

"I never said it was!" Finn protests. He knows now that most things in life aren't easy, actually. But he'd thought it also didn't have to be this hard. And that's the part he's hung up on.

Besides Rachel, that is. He's pretty hung up on her too.

"So say the words you're feeling," Kurt gently guides

Instead, Finn just shoots his stepbrother a brief, dirty look before he snatches the snow globe back and gives the children inside a death stare instead. Kurt half expects them to start screaming in terror; maybe he can see where Finn was coming from, talking to them. They seem incredibly life-like and detailed—for ceramics.

"It just…I didn't think she was…I don't think she's letting go. She…there's this look. And it was there and she just…how am I supposed to know what she—she didn't say _anything_. She just left."

Kurt raises his eyebrows. "How is _any_ of that a feeling?"

Finn sighs. "I dunno. She's the one that usually figures all that out then she tells me. I just…I choose her. But she obviously doesn't choose me and I don't get it. I mean, I _know_ I'm not good enough for her but I guess I thought maybe I _could_ be. Maybe I could be what she sees and what she wants and…"

"You can't choose who or what you love, Finn. You know that."

"No, I know. But you can choose to pretend you don't, and I guess that's what she thinks I've been doing and I guess it's unforgivable or whatever," he chokes out. He leans back in the chair, forgetting his balance was already not the best and he nearly falls over before he sits up entirely. God, he's smooth. What a catch. She really doesn't know what she's missing out on.

But she _does_. That's what sucks the hardest. She knows how great it could be. She knows how happy they could be. He twists the key and listens to the song again, feeling tears burning at the back of his throat, choking him but refusing to come out. It's a sign. He wishes he was with her again, just like the song says. And if that tether thing works the way he thinks it does, she should wish she was with him again, too.

Maybe all he has to do is hold on. Maybe if he can just do that, hold on and keep trying and stay strong and all that garbage, well maybe they'll get a happy ending even if the middle is a little bit bumpy.

"Nothing is really unforgiveable when it comes to the person you love," Kurt tells him quietly, his voice somber.

It's a little weird, seeing Kurt all seriously like this. Well, serious is the wrong word because Kurt is serious about almost everything. But his brother isn't usually this morose (he's learned a lot from taking the SAT—and by a lot he means one or two impressive words and the fact that his hatred of tests is well-founded).

"'Kay," he says, unconvinced. Maybe Kurt is right. But maybe it only works that way for some people and he's just not in luck. It wouldn't surprise him. Although, he probably doesn't deserve it anyway.

But still. He loves her. And he knows he loves her more than anyone else does, or ever has or ever will. Because it goes back to that whole tether thing. But because it's not an inanimate object, you can't just cut it; it doesn't just go away. So even when they're apart, they're never really apart and he still sort of resents the fact that it had taken him so long to figure it out.

Then again, Kurt likes to tell him that he internalizes things too much and he wonders if he stops doing that, then maybe it won't take him so long to figure important stuff out next time. If he even gets a next time with Rachel. "I still don't know how to fix it all."

Kurt lifts a shoulder, making his way to the door. He doesn't have to say anything; Finn knows he's got a moisturizing routine to stick to. But before he actually leaves, Kurt murmurs, "Maybe you both just have to stop pretending."

Then the door is closed and Finn is struck with inspiration. And if he didn't need to write down his ideas right this instant, he would take the second to wonder if Kurt did that on purpose. Knowing Kurt, he probably done.

Finn picks up his pen, scribbling down the lines that are already forming in his head. And he's not sure how far it'll go or how good it will be, but he's at least worth a shot. It's Rachel, so it's actually worth pretty much everything. And he's gonna do his best.

He's done pretending, and now he's just got to convince her to be too.

He tries to smile a little because he's gonna do this.

He's gonna write her a song.

* * *

><p>So it's kind of weird to feel so…connected. Like he knows he's mentioned the tethering thing a time or two and in different ways, but this is different. He can hold the connection in his hand and it has weight and children singing and it's real.<p>

It's a real reminder of how he fucked up. And how, even at this time on an airplane last week, he didn't have any idea what to do. This toy or whatever it is…this _souvenir… _it's a reminder of being on the airplane and overcoming all that hopelessness, right? Like if it came to him then, it'll probably come to him eventually now, won't it? He just needs some time to think. He has to try not to snort 'cause his mom is in the car and she always asks him _why_ he does that stuff. Like he really wants to explain. He just wishes he could make fun of himself in peace.

"So Finn…" Burt says from the front seat. He does that thing where he sits up a little straighter to try making eye contact in the rear-view mirror. Finn doesn't even have to sit up straighter for that. He flicks a glance up from his lap to the mirror, and once their eyes meet, Burt is satisfied that Finn is paying attention (unlike Kurt who is asleep with his face pressed against the window). "Kurt says you wrote Rachel a hell of a song."

Finn offers an uneasy shrug and then looks out the window quickly then back down to the snow globe in his lap. He fights the urge to snort again—yes, he's two for two on that!—and clears his throat. "Yeah, I guess. We still didn't win, though."

"Honey," his mom says consolingly. "It's not like twelfth place is bad. You guys should still be proud of yourselves." She turns to look back at him, smiling encouragingly.

He nods politely, but doesn't say anything. He loves his mom and everything, but he guesses she just doesn't get it. He ruined one of Rachel's biggest dreams. Now she's never gonna wanna be with him again. And she'll just go on to be amazing and breathtaking and perfect on Broadway and stuff, and he'll still be stuck with just a snow globe.

Speaking of which, for something that's supposed to be his good luck charm or whatever, it's not bringing him much luck that could be considered good. He looks over at Kurt and almost wishes he was enough of a creep to take a picture because his brother is almost licking the window and there's a line of drool hanging from his mouth. And God, if Kurt ever finds out about this, he might die on the spot.

"Your mom's right," Burt says, though he's looking forward. "Nothing to be done about it now, except show them all up next year."

It's nice to have parents that are so supportive. He's just not sure he really deserves all that.

He looks down at the snow globe again, brushing his fingers lightly over the glass sphere. And even though the people inside aren't real, he feels kinda bad for them. Mostly because he gets it; being trapped, having to do the same thing over and over. Sure, he doesn't have to sing the same Christmas song repeatedly and he's not literally trapped in a ball of glass.

But he's trapped in Lima, or at least, he probably will be. And he's trapped inside of a mediocre routine of day to day life that he doesn't really know how to escape, at least not now that he's pretty sure he's lost Rachel. Again.

How many times do you get to make the same mistakes over again before it becomes a choice? But by that token, it would make hurting Rachel a choice. And that's not something he would ever choose. So maybe he still has another chance. Or at least hope of persuading her to give him another chance.

That is, if he can find a way to show his face around her ever again.

* * *

><p>Not only did he show her his face, but he saved it. And that's the whole reason why, even after the epically awesome get-back-together-Finchel and the final Glee club meeting of the year, they're trucking down the hallway and still at the almost empty school this late. Because the day would not be complete if he left it behind and that's that.<p>

He knows it's insane, okay? And he doesn't even have to look at her to already know what look is on her face. And when Rachel Berry looks at you like you're insane, you're pretty sure dudes in white coats would agree. Or whatever. It's basically worse than when Puck kicked him out of a chair 'cause he was the dumbass with the snow globe, and worse than when Kurt talked to him about _fetishes_. (He shudders again for good measure 'cause it's not like it's a fetish. Some guys don't change their socks before a game because they consider it a good luck charm and no one calls them crazy for it. It's just like this only he wants to keep changing his socks so the snow globe is a way better good luck charm.)

They make it to the library and the lights are off, but Rachel tries the door anyway and it's not quite locked yet. The librarian is two steps away setting the security alarm, though, and he snorts because—really?

Rachel isn't his mom. She understands his amusement and instead of asking him to explain his snort, she laughs a little and the librarian gives them both a crusty glare through her huge glasses.

"I just left something here," Finn chokes out. He uses where his hand is linked in Rachel's. "I'll just leave my girlfriend here. She's my security deposit or something so you know I'm coming right back."

Rachel turns and shoots him a dirty look as she folds her arms against her chest. "Excuse me?"

"She has scary face and I'll just be a minute," he hisses. He kisses her forehead for good measure. He's pretty sure she wouldn't be pissed if he was protected by the magic powers of the snow globe. Maybe he can play the song for her and she'll fall under its spell, too. That would be good, 'cause fighting your first day together would suck ass. At least he imagines it would, he doesn't really know from experience.

He's back in flash, because a) no one has been in here since they left and b) no one would steal a snow globe because there's really no value to it unless you're nuts. Which kind of brings him back to his original point—he's not crazy even if Rachel thinks he is and everything is fine once he has the snow globe in hand.

Just to be safe, though, they turn down a different hallway than the librarian even though they're technically going to the same parking lot. It's just convenient that it gives him a reason to haul her into a darkened down open classroom and kiss the hell out of her though.

_Did he really ask her what she was doing for the next year_? It had to have been the snow globe that came up with that smooth line. 'Cause no way in hell did he think of that shit on his own.

He pulls away from her, panting a little as he rests his forehead against her cheek. "As much as I'd like to indulge in an admittedly thrilling, but inappropriate make out session with you right now," she whispers, "I think we should get out of here. You can come over if you'd like, though," she adds, looking up at him knowingly.

The side of his mouth curves up. "Yeah, all right," he agrees. "You're probably right." He hugs the snow globe to his side, his other hand finding Rachel's as he peeks out the doorway just to double check that the coast is clear. He nods and leads her out of the hallway and to the door.

It's strange to him how easily they just fall back together, but not strange enough to question it. In fact, he's pretty sure snow globes aren't supposed to be charismatic or make others charismatic, but he'd given up on questioning that too. It's better just to accept the inevitable, right?

Which would be that he and Rachel are meant to be together, and objects have power. Maybe literally. He's still pretty hazy on the details of magic and stuff (and he doesn't believe that Harry Potter is, like, real or anything, but who says that maybe there aren't lamps out there with genies in them? Well, maybe not. But all he knows is that you can't always take things at face value. Or globe value. Whatever.)

"How'd you get to school this morning?" he asks as they walk to the parking lot.

"Oh, Mercedes gave me a ride. I was going to drive, but she swung by to drop something off, so we just ended up going together."

He nods in acknowledgement. Okay, good. This works in his favor, actually. "Cool, so you want a ride?" he asks.

She smiles up at him and tells him that would be lovely, so they make their way towards his truck and he wonders what exactly he's supposed to do with the snow globe. For one, he's definitely not putting it on the floor where it could fall over. And it's not really big enough to be buckled into the back effectively. Again, it would just end up falling and possibly rolling onto the floorboards and breaking.

He considers asking Rachel, but she doesn't seem to get the significance of the snow globe to him. And it's not something he could explain to her on the car ride home, assuming he can find the words to explain it at all if she asks. And knowing Rachel, she's going to ask. Because he can read the questioning look in her eyes every time he glances down at it or clutches it tighter than is normal for such things.

It's time to put his brain to good use, since he's pretty sure the snow globe isn't actually going to tell him the best way to transport it to Rachel's house.

It'd be really freaking sweet if it did, though.

But the other thing that's really good is Rachel takes it from him after she's all buckled in. She doesn't say anything (miracle—not that he minds when she talks and just…whatever. He doesn't have to explain himself to _himself_ because he didn't say that out loud thank God) and just holds it in her lap, like she knows he didn't have another solution to the traveling snow globe dilemma. But then she turns the golden key thing and he hears her breath catch as the song plays.

"What…Finn…what is this?" She asks slowly. He glances over and sees her throat move when she swallows hard. He looks back to the road before he answers because, magic snow globe or no, he has learned some stuff and he knows he can't just take his eyes off the road.

"A snow globe," he says with a shrug. If he plays it off like it's normal for him to have that, maybe she'll just play along, right?

"And why do you have it?"

Maybe she won't just play along. He sighs.

"Because…because I can't really explain all that since we're like three blocks from your house."

"Try me," she says, not moving her eyes off the item in her lap. She twists the key and plays the song again. He thinks maybe that particular song is going to be something kinda hard to hear even though it worked its magic and helped him in whatever way and they're back together.

_They're back together._ He kind of wants to squeal like a girl about it all, honestly.

"Well...okay. So when we broke up or whatever…you did that Christmas thing and even though I said I didn't want to hear you sing I _heard you sing_ and it was that song," he starts in a rush, gesturing to the snow globe before replacing his hand on the steering wheel. "So then I got hit in the foot with that thing on the airplane while I was thinking about you singing and us and all that…just that _stuff_ and…and it's pretty and the children sing and I think they sang it because that's what I needed to hear."

He's at a stoplight now and he looks over at her and her face is kind of confused and she's still looking down at the snow globe.

"So this…snow globe…is this year's grilled cheese sandwich?" She asks. And how did she know about that? The only person he told was… whatever. It doesn't really matter anymore because she's sort of right. He sees symbols and signs and they help him and it's okay.

"No," he says defensively anyway. He pulls over in front of her house and brings the truck to a complete stop before he turns toward her in the seat. He takes the snow globe from her lap and turns it over in his hands. He watches the snow drop down onto the children inside and he sighs. He wishes they had some sort of, like, GPS. Maybe the children could tell him where to go with this talk they're having 'cause he obviously doesn't know how to explain it.

How can something make you feel better and worse all at the same time? Like when he looked at Rachel any time they were apart, that's what she did. He felt better because she was there and worse 'cause they weren't together and he knows that now and…right. Maybe she'll get it.

"It helped me think of the song to write you," he finally blurts. "And it helped me think I should and I thought about it a lot and that all started on the stupid airplane with not enough space 'cause I kicked the seat in front of me and knocked this thing loose. It was a sign, okay?" He rolls his eyes and just keeps looking down because she might be looking at him like he's nuts and that would just be a little too much to handle.

"Well, maybe we should get a _new_ one then. Since you've done everything the snow globe asked of you." She reaches out and puts her hand on it but he jerks it away.

"I can't just, like, trade it in for a different model," he scoffs.

"That's not what I mean," she says. "But I think we could try to find a song that doesn't make me think of missing you and you eavesdropping on me outside the auditorium while I'm singing with a broken heart."

He rolls his eyes and looks away. "Well, maybe I don't want to _forget_ all that 'cause if I don't forget it then it won't happen again. I'm a big fan of things happening again when they're _good_ but that was all bad."

"What if we found one that sings Journey?" She suggests.

He relaxes his shoulders a little and brings the snow globe back down to his lap (it was getting dangerously close to the driver's side window and he's sorry he almost banged it on the glass). If she's not going to take it out of his hands, maybe she understands and maybe it's just…everything is okay. Plus he wouldn't have to feel guilty leaving it on the bookshelf in his room if it had some company.

"You can do that?" He asks. "You can just make one?"

"I think so," she says brightly. "You just have to figure out what you want. Then find a website that will do it."

"Well, we _know_ what we want," he says easily.

"So let's go find it," she says. She won't get out of the car before he comes to let her out of the car because he won that battle like a year ago and apparently they're moving forward with that.

Talk about a _sign_.

So maybe there are signs everywhere and he doesn't _need_ the snow globe anymore. But maybe he'll keep it like a souvenir instead. Because all this is very good and he wants to hold on to it a little while longer.


End file.
